


Dead Man's Tag

by ohyousourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Ghosts, Laura still meddling with everyone's lives even though she's a ghost, M/M, Multi, Stiles is jealous of all his friends getting some when he's not, possible follow up because cliffhanger but only if people bother me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohyousourwolf/pseuds/ohyousourwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang decides to play some Deadman’s Tag down in the Beacon Hills Preserve by the old Hale house. Some others decide to join in the game too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Man's Tag

“This sounds like an awful idea. Who thought this stupid game up anyways?” Erica had been complaining the whole ride to the preserve and it hadn’t changed upon their arrival.

“Look, we needed something to do for Halloween and Jackson’s parents got back from their trip earlier than we thought. So, no party means why not play a little Dead Man’s Tag?” Lydia led the way through the woods, her perfectly curled hair blowing softly in the wind.

Stiles followed closely behind, adding, “Yeah, plus All Hallows Eve is said to be the night that the dead can walk again, so maybe we’ll be joined tonight!”

Jackson, wearing his patented I Am Better Than You™ smirk, just snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Everyone knows that’s bullshit, Stiles. I’ve played Dead Man’s Tag hundreds of times before and I’ve never seen anyone,” Isaac tromped through a pile of leaves, kicking them about with a carelessness only he seemed to be able to pull off.

Scott kicked some about too, scooping up a handful and throwing them at the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles, laughing, threw a fistful back but missed, hitting Allison and Boyd instead.

“Ugh, Stiles! Watch where you’re throwing stuff!” Allison brushed the leaves out of her hair, grinning to show she wasn’t terribly upset.

“You guys, we’ve reached base,” Lydia said as her flashlight’s beam landed upon the old Hale house, which was now nothing more than a burnt, charred husk of it’s former glory. It gave Stiles the willies, thinking about the people who had died in the fire.

13 in all. And unlucky number if ever there was one.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, causing Stiles to reach up and rub them.

“So,” Lydia said, turning to the group, “the rules are as follows: first, we turn off the flashlights. Then we invite the others to play, and once we’ve done that we hide. Once hidden, count backwards from 100 and if at any time you feel or see anyone with you who isn’t us you yell ‘Home free!’ and run for the house.”

“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” it was the first thing Boyd had said all night.

“Well, we’re here now so we might as well do it,” Isaac replied.

“Yeah,” Scott said, grabbing Allison’s hand. His grin, barely discernible in the darkness, matched hers.

“Alright then let’s just do it,” Jackson said. Everyone turned off their flashlights.

Lydia turned to the house, speaking clearly and loudly, “We’re here to play a friendly game of tag, why don’t you join us?”

Her voice rang out eerily in the darkness as everyone split up to hide. Jackson grabbed Lydia, heading east. Allison, Isaac, and Scott went north and Stiles did not even want to know what was going on there. Boyd nodded to Stiles apologetically and headed southward with Erica leaving Stiles to head west.

-

“Yeah, split up. That always works so well in horror films, we should definitely do that. Let’s play tag like a bunch of 12-year-olds and pretend no one knows this is actually a game of 'we can go to the woods and make out with each other. But no make outs for Stiles. What a loser that guy is,'” Stiles stumbles over a branch and contemplated turning his flashlight for a moment, but he was not a cheater, even if everyone else was. He would take this game as seriously as possible, then go home and forget this night ever happened.

“Besides, maybe I’ll see a ghost. It’ll be cool.”

Unfortunately for Stiles, All Hallows Eve happened to land on the night of the new moon and the woods was black as pitch. He could barely discern where trees were located so finding a “hiding spot” was going to be difficult. Luck, however, seemed to be with him this night because he stumbled on a rocky outcropping by a river that was almost cave-like. The outcropping was next to a river that trickles softly and made it feel less lonely.

So as he settled against a rock he began counting quietly out loud, otherwise the silence that hung over the woods would have been deafening.

“100…”

“99…”

“98…”

The hairs on the back of Stiles’ neck began to prickle again. Stiles glanced around, nervous for the first time that night.

“89…”

“88…”

“87…”

His eyes had become adjusted to the dark, but it was barely possible to discern shadows, let alone make out details due to the lack of the moon’s light. Stiles was suddenly conscious of a dark shadow across the river, though he couldn’t tell what it was.

“84…”

“83…”

He could have sworn the shadow moved.

“82…”

“81…”

It definitely moved.

“Shit!”

He scrambled out of the rocks, pressing his back to them and edging along the river. He kept his eyes glued to the moving shadow. There was no doubt that, whatever it was, it was moving at the exact same pace Stiles was.

The thing was stalking him.

A cold sweat broke out on Stiles’ neck, adrenaline suddenly pumping through his system. Fight or flight. He wanted to run, shout to the others and run like the wind back to the house; but something was keeping him glued to his spot, telling him not to go.

The shadow.

It had stopped where Stiles had. Now it was coming closer, wading through the river until it was waist deep. The figure was only about 15 feet away from him and now he could start to make out his appearance. It was a man, half of his face was covered in burns and the other half was grinning at him, his eyes seemed to glitter in amusement though there was no light to catch in them. When he emerged from the water he was much closer, close enough to reach out…to touch.

“47…”

“46…"

“45…”

Stiles hadn’t even registered that he was still counting backwards.

“Still counting? I must not have frightened you that badly then,” the man was definitely grinning, “The name is Peter, Peter Hale.”

“Uh, Stiles, Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles reached out for a handshake like every other time he had introduced himself. Peter frowned.

“I’m very sorry to say that I can’t shake hands with you. I am dead after all. Don’t you know the rules of the game?”

“What do you mean, ‘dead’?” Stiles stammered.

“Don’t be foolish, you know exactly what I mean. Clearly I’m dead, after all you invited the dead to play this game didn’t you?”

Silence fell between them. Stiles couldn’t say anything, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Peter. He was trying to wrap his brain around ghosts when Peter started grinning again.

“Well boy, aren’t you going to run?” That is the game, after all,” Peter lunged forward just as a howl pierced the night.

Stiles remembered himself a split-second before Peter lunged and scrambled away from the river. His fingers dug into his pocket as he ran and closed around the flashlight within. As the beam of sudden light pierced the darkness in front of him Stiles boosted his speed. His heart thundered in his chest and his lungs screamed for air, but he kept going. He glanced over his shoulder to look for Peter but couldn’t make out anything except blackness. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes and a large shadow with claws. It was getting closer and closer and Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Suddenly he felt his foot catch on a root and he slammed into the ground, flashlight flying. Stiles quickly rolled onto his back, frantically reaching for the flashlight. Before he could reach it the monster was looming over him. And that’s what it was too, a monster unlike anything Stiles could have ever dreamed of let alone seen. It was beastly, well over six feet tall and covered in fur. It’s demonic eyes glowed a shade of red even the devil himself could not replicate. Canine-like fangs dripped with saliva and Stiles cold almost feel it landing on him; but of course the monster couldn’t be corporeal if it was a ghost, could it?

Of course, he had never run into a ghost-monster before. And if he had never run into this type of situation it was probably not wise to be making wild conjectures about ghosts and ghost-monsters and what they could or could not do. No it was probably better to be running instead. Yes that sounded much better to Stiles.

He stumbled onto his feet as the monster crept forward. Stiles slowly stepped backward, hoping he wasn’t going to trip and fall again. He was already cursing losing his flashlight, which lay abandoned four feet to his right, shining aimlessly into the distance.

Stiles was positive he couldn’t out-muscle or out-run this hulking thing, so he turned to the only thing he really excelled at: talking.

“L-listen, monster-thing, I know you are probably all excited to eat me and stuff, but I most definitely would not be tasty. I’m probably tough.. and stringy! You see these muscles? Yeah, no fat on ‘em at all. Oh! And I have parasites! You wouldn’t want these things inside you! No sir! Parasites are a nasty business!”

“Are you actually trying to talk a giant monster out of eating you?”

Stiles jumped at the appearance of a grinning brunette to his left.

“Wha-?”

“Don’t worry kid, Derek will take care of our uncle. He does this all the time—or at least anytime someone living wanders onto the property. I think he’s just mad he was the last one alive personally, but Derek thinks he’s just a jerk with unresolved issues if you catch my drift. Or maybe it’s all that lingering Alpha juju he’s got pumping through him,” she had been stroking her chin thoughtfully as she rambled, then seemed to startle herself and looked at him, “I didn’t introduce myself! How rude of me. The name’s Laura, Laura Hale.”

While Stiles was shocked into silence for the second time that night he still couldn’t help but observe that Laura was one of the prettiest people he had ever laid eyes on. This included Lydia, who was his #1 Pretty Lady™. His brain seemed to finally click on as he processed what she had been saying.

“What do you mean your uncle?”

“Peter Hale, of course!” Laura was still grinning as another person joined the gathering by tackling the giant monster-Peter to the ground. Stiles couldn’t make out much of the second intruder aside from the muscular frame. Probably the most well-muscled specimen of man Stiles had ever encountered. The guy and Peter-who-was-actually-a-monster grappled on the ground in a mass of human and monster limbs.

Stiles caught site of the man’s black hair and his face turned briefly and a pair of glowing electric-blue eyes sent another shock through Stiles. He said, through a mouthful of fangs, “Laura, get that kid out of here. It’s dangerous,” before turning back to monster-Peter and fending him off as he lunged toward Stiles.

“Well you heard Mr. Grumpy, time for you to go. This way please,” Laura gestured for Stiles to follow and he obliged, not wanting to be in that situation longer than necessary.

“So wait, can you guys actually touch people? I thought ghosts couldn’t do that…?” Stiles stumbled along behind Laura, who’s feet barely seemed to touch the ground, trying to make sense of the situation he suddenly found himself in.

“Oh, well, I can’t touch you or any person really. Peter can, but only when he’s in his Alpha form. We all think it’s something to do with the Alpha powers he has somehow retained.”

“You keep saying that…Alpha, like you think I’m supposed to know what it means,” Stiles was exasperated, which was a strange emotion to have during such a dangerous time. He just wanted to know what the hell was going on, but at the same time he really just wanted to be home, in bed, and forgetting this night ever happened.

“Alpha wolf, of course. We were all werewolves before… before the fire. The Hale pack. My Mom was the Alpha, I was her second and Derek was my baby brother. Our Dad was human though. Mom died first, trying to find a way out of the house for us to follow so the power went to me. I didn’t last long either. Peter was trying to get us all out, he had been away on a trip and had come home to see the house going up in flames. So I sent the Alpha powers to him before I…” Laura paused and stopped walking, “You can’t tell anyone. Werewolves are a secret, okay?”

Stiles nodded and she continued.

“So Peter got the Alpha powers but the hunter who had started the fire had stayed to finish the job and shot him with a rare form of wolfsbane. Peter was the last Hale alive, so the Alpha powers had nowhere to go and he somehow retained them. Now we’re all ghosts waiting for Kate to come back so we can get revenge and move on to the other side…whatever the other side is. And believe me, I was just as surprised as you are now to know that ghosts are a real thing.”

“So what you’re saying is werewolves and werewolf hunters exist. And there’s something called an Alpha who turns into a giant, freaking monster?! Yeah right lady, like that could even be true.” Stiles was completely not sold on the idea.

“Yeah, right,” Laura replied, “and ghosts are also here. Hence why we are all still here and you can see us.” To prove her point she shoved a hand into Stiles’ chest, causing him to shiver all over and get that prickly feeling on the back of his neck.

“Okay…valid point,” Stiles conceded, “Ghosts and werewolves are real. And I am totally freaked out right now!”

“Laura!” a sharp voice rang out, and with it came the other wolf, the one with the blue eyes, Derek. “Are you just telling this punk kid everything? We might be dead but our families secrets are still ours.”

“Oh, Derek, c’mon he’s got an honest face! And maybe he could help us!” Laura looked so happy about her plan and Derek looked so angry It was almost comical. You couldn’t even tell they were related, they had such polar opposite personalities.

“Um, no one asked me if I was willing to even help,” Stiles was fighting off the edge of a panic attack by focusing on the situation; cataloguing every tiny detail of the conversation, people and surrounding, what little he could make out. Committing it to memory for later analysis.

Derek and Laura seemed locked in some kind of glare-off and had quit arguing for the moment. While locked in this silent battle, Stiles took stock of his location, he was pretty sure the burnt out house remains were just beyond the trees to his left.

“Uh..” he began to say just as Derek lowered his gaze letting out a sigh and a “Fine, but if he doesn’t want to help that is his choice and you won’t pressure him.”

Laura squealed in delight before leaping at Derek for a hug; only to pass through him. Her smile faded as she turned to Stiles.

“So what do you say, care to help a family of ghostly werewolves stop a crazy, psycho-hunter lady?” she was grinning mischievously again and Stiles had a sneaking suspicion that this was a trait with Laura.

Stiles just gaped at her. When had his life become this? Standing in the middle of the woods with two ghost siblings who were murdered by a werewolf hunter because they were once werewolves. And who knows where his friends were. No doubt still making out with each other; or maybe they’d even left him in the woods because they’d forgotten he’d come with.

Shit, that was entirely plausible. They’d forgotten him once at a party in favor of all going off with each other. He’d had to get a ride home with Greenberg that particular night and it had been awkward, to say the least. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his friends but when their hormones took over they lost all sense and just became complete horn dogs.

Which, Stiles supposed he wouldn’t complain about so much if he had someone to be a horn dog with himself.

“Uh, Stiles? You don’t have to help if you don’t want to it’s just… we can’t leave the property and we need to get Kate here. So…” Laura interrupted Stiles’ internal ranting.

Stiles started, he had completely gotten side tracked in his thoughts some how. He shook himself back to reality and replied, “Huh? Oh, yeah… uh…” he carded his fingers through his hair, “Well I…”

“Laura just forget this kid okay? What help would he even be?” Derek’s face had gotten more and more grim as Stiles see the tick in his jaw.

“Hey now! I would be a big help if I wanted to be!” outraged, Stiles continued, then shrugged and sighed, “So yeah, I’ll help...but just because you said I couldn’t or wouldn’t be helpful. I’ll show you just how helpful I can be!” Stiles then turned to head toward the house, stomping through the forest when Laura cleared her throat.

“Stiles, the house is that way, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Stiles felt heat rise in his cheeks and thanked the powers that be for the darkness. “Uh, right. Well, I’ll come back tomorrow and we can hash out a plan. Right now my friends are looking for me… probably.” And he took his leave of the Hale siblings.

“You think he’ll really be of help?” Derek sighed, face resigned.

“We can only hope,” Laura said before glancing over at Derek and disappearing. Derek walked over to where Laura had been, fingers brushing through the air, then walked off in the opposite direction of Stiles.

“I hope you’re right Laura,” was all he whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this back during S2 but didn't actually find the motivation to finish it til now. Maybe one day I'll get gumption and pick it up again, but it's doubtful.   
> Spoiler Alert though, Derek is real and not actually a ghost. He just liked to place convenient lies so people don't think he's a real, actual person.


End file.
